


Mercy-Kill

by Glowstar826



Series: Mercy-Kill [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Albus Dumbledore Dies, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avada Kedavra, BAMF Harry Potter, BAMF Severus Snape, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Cruciatus Curse (Harry Potter), Death, Don't Like Don't Read, Gen, Gen Work, Good Severus Snape, Harry Potter-centric, Major Character(s), No Romance, No Sex, No Slash, No Smut, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, POV Harry Potter, POV Male Character, POV Multiple, POV Severus Snape, POV Third Person, Second War with Voldemort, Sectumsempra (Harry Potter), Severus Snape Has a Heart, Spoilers, Torture, Unforgivable Curses (Harry Potter), kill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:33:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25923661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glowstar826/pseuds/Glowstar826
Summary: "You're right, Potter," Snape whispered into Harry's ear, and he cringed as he felt Snape's hot breath brush against his neck. "He trusted me, trusted me to the point thatIwas the one he turned to, to ensure his quick and painless death."Instead of leaving without explanation, Snape decides to tell Harry the secret behind Dumbledore's murder. Shocked with alarming new revelations, Harry turns to Ron and Hermione for advice. One-shot. Prologue to "Mercy-Kill II: The Horcrux Hunt."
Series: Mercy-Kill [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1881823
Comments: 7
Kudos: 59





	Mercy-Kill

**Author's Note:**

> **Before you read this, I want you all to know that there are a lot of excerpts from the book _Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince_. The chapters from which these excerpts are taken are the following: Chapter 28 (Flight of the Prince) and Chapter 29 (The Phoenix Lament). Normally, I don't have such heavy usage of the original text in any of my stories, but it is necessary in this case for the sake of the plot. There are some quotes which are modified in the excerpts to reflect my own plot, but for the most part, the excerpts are the same as the books. I do hope I don't come across as plagiarizing, for there _is_ a chunk of this story that's mine. With all that said, I hope you enjoy this story!**

"Cruc—" yelled Harry for the second time, aiming for the figure ahead illuminated in the dancing firelight, but Snape blocked the spell again. Harry could see him sneering.

"No Unforgivable Curses from you, Potter!" he shouted over the rushing of the flames, Hagrid's yells, and the wild yelping of the trapped Fang. "You haven't got the nerve or the ability—"

"Incarc—" Harry roared, but Snape deflected the spell with an almost lazy flick of his arm. "Fight back!" Harry screamed at him. "Fight back, you cowardly—"

"Coward, did you call me, Potter?" shouted Snape. "Your father would never attack me unless it was four on one, what would you call him, I wonder?"

"Stupe—"

"Blocked again and again and again until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter!" sneered Snape, deflecting the curse once more. "Now come!" he shouted at the huge Death Eater behind Harry.

"It is time to be gone, before the Ministry turns up—"

"Impedi—" But before he could finish this jinx, excruciating pain hit Harry; he keeled over in the grass. Someone was screaming, he would surely die of this agony, Snape was going to torture him to death or madness—

"No!" roared Snape's voice and the pain stopped as suddenly as it had started; Harry lay curled on the dark grass, clutching his wand and panting; somewhere overhead Snape was shouting, "Have you forgotten our orders? Potter belongs to the Dark Lord—we are to leave him! Go! Go!" And Harry felt the ground shudder under his face as the brother and sister and the enormous Death Eater obeyed, running toward the gates. Harry uttered an inarticulate yell of rage: In that instant, he cared not whether he lived or died. Pushing himself to his feet again, he staggered blindly toward Snape, the man he now hated as much as he hated Voldemort himself—

" _Sectum_ —!"

Snape flicked his wand and the curse was repelled yet again; but Harry was mere feet away now and he could see Snape's face clearly at last: He was no longer sneering or jeering; the blazing flames showed a face full of rage. Mustering all his powers of concentration, Harry thought, _Levi_ —

"No, Potter!" screamed Snape. There was a loud BANG and Harry was soaring backward, hitting the ground hard again, and this time his wand flew out of his hand. He could hear Hagrid yelling and Fang howling as Snape closed in and looked down on him where he lay, wandless and defenseless as Dumbledore had been. Snape's pale face, illuminated by the flaming cabin, was suffused with hatred just as it had been before he had cursed Dumbledore.

"You dare use my own spells against me, Potter? It was I who invented them—I, the Half-Blood Prince! And you'd turn my inventions on me, like your filthy father, would you? I don't think so…no!"

Harry had dived for his wand; Snape shot a hex at it and it flew feet away into the darkness and out of sight.

"Kill me then," panted Harry, who felt no fear at all, but only rage and contempt. "Kill me like you killed him, you coward—"

"DON'T—" screamed Snape, and his face was suddenly demented, inhuman, as though he was in as much pain as the yelping, howling dog stuck in the burning house behind them— "CALL ME COWARD!"

Then, Snape seemed to quickly school his emotions into a cold mask. He leaned in close to Harry, who tried his very hardest to move his head away, but his pain wouldn't let him.

"He trusted you," Harry croaked out, still panting. "He—"

"You're right, Potter," Snape whispered into Harry's ear, and he cringed as he felt Snape's hot breath brush against his neck. "He trusted me, trusted me to the point that _I_ was the one he turned to, to ensure his quick and painless death." With that, Snape stood back up and slashed at the air.

Harry felt a white-hot, whiplike something hit him across the face and was slammed backward into the ground. Spots of light burst in front of his eyes and for a moment all the breath seemed to have gone from his body, then he heard a rush of wings above him and something enormous obscured the stars. Buckbeak had flown at Snape, who staggered backward as the razor-sharp claws slashed at him. As Harry raised himself into a sitting position, his head still swimming from its last contact with the ground, he saw Snape running as hard as he could, the enormous beast flapping behind him and screeching as Harry had never heard him screech—

Harry struggled to his feet, looking around groggily for his wand, hoping to give chase again so he could get answers, but even as his fingers fumbled in the grass, discarding twigs, he knew it would be too late, and sure enough, by the time he had located his wand, he turned only to see the hippogriff circling the gates. Snape had managed to Disapparate just beyond the school's boundaries.

Harry felt dazed and horribly confused. What did Snape mean when he said that Dumbledore trusted him enough to ensure his quick, painless death? Was Snape saying that he _mercy-killed_ the headmaster? No, that could not be right. He probably hated Dumbledore's very guts and was only trying to trick Harry again. Suddenly, he remembered. Hagrid. His house. On fire.

"Hagrid," muttered Harry, still dazed, looking around. "HAGRID?"

He stumbled toward the burning house as an enormous figure emerged from out of the flames carrying Fang on his back. With a cry of thankfulness, Harry sank to his knees; he was shaking in every limb, his body ached all over, and his breath came in painful stabs.

"Yeh all righ', Harry? Yeh all righ'? Speak ter me, Harry…" Hagrid's huge, hairy face was swimming above Harry, blocking out the stars. Harry could smell burnt wood and dog hair; he put out a hand and felt Fang's reassuringly warm and alive body quivering beside him.

"I'm all right," panted Harry. "Are you?"

"'Course I am…take more'n that ter finish me." Hagrid put his hands under Harry's arms and raised him up with such force that Harry's feet momentarily left the ground before Hagrid set him upright again. He could see blood trickling down Hagrid's cheek from a deep cut under one eye, which was swelling rapidly.

"We should put out your house," said Harry, "the charm's ' _Aguamenti_ '…"

"Knew it was summat like that," mumbled Hagrid, and he raised a smoldering pink, flowery umbrella and said, " _Aguamenti_!"

A jet of water flew out of the umbrella tip. Harry raised his wand arm, which felt like lead, and murmured "Aguamenti" too: Together, he and Hagrid poured water on the house until the last flame was extinguished.

"S'not too bad," said Hagrid hopefully a few minutes later, looking at the smoking wreck. "Nothin' Dumbledore won' be able to put righ'…"

Harry felt a searing pain in his stomach at the sound of the name. In the silence and the stillness, horror rose inside him.

"Hagrid…"

"I was bindin' up a couple o' bowtruckle legs when I heard 'em coming," said Hagrid sadly, still staring at his wrecked cabin. "They'll bin burnt ter twigs, poor little things…"

"Hagrid…"

"But what happened, Harry? I jus' saw them Death Eaters runnin' down from the castle, but what the ruddy hell was Snape doin' with 'em? Where's he gone—was he chasin' them?"

Harry opened his mouth and closed it again. What _was_ Snape doing? Harry knew that Snape was supposed to be a spy for the Order, but did he not show his true colors just now? But Snape's words kept repeating themselves in his head: " _He trusted me, trusted me to the point that_ I _was the one he turned to, to ensure his quick and painless death._ " What was that supposed to _mean_?

"I...I don't know," said Harry, for it was true. He really did not know. "But...Dumbledore...he's dead…"

"Dead?" asked Hagrid loudly, staring down at Harry. "Dumbledore dead? What're yeh on abou' Harry?"

"Killed...he was killed…" Harry did not know why he was not just saying it outright: Snape killed Dumbledore! Was it that hard to say?

"Don' say that," said Hagrid roughly. "Dumbledore killed—don' be stupid, Harry. Wha's made yeh say tha'?"

"I saw it happen."

"Yeh couldn' have."

"I saw it, Hagrid."

Hagrid shook his head; his expression was disbelieving but sympathetic, and Harry knew that Hagrid thought he had sustained a blow to the head, that he was confused, perhaps by the aftereffects of a jinx…

"What musta happened was, Dumbledore musta told Snape ter go with them Death Eaters," Hagrid said confidently. "I suppose he's gotta keep his cover. Look, let's get yeh back up ter the school. Come on, Harry…"

Harry did not attempt to argue or explain. He was still shaking uncontrollably. Hagrid would find out soon enough, too soon… As they directed their steps back toward the castle, Harry saw that many of its windows were lit now. He could imagine, clearly, the scenes inside as people moved from room to room, telling each other that Death Eaters had got in, that the Mark was shining over Hogwarts, that somebody must have been killed…

The oak front doors stood open ahead of them, light flooding out onto the drive and the lawn. Slowly, uncertainly, dressing-gowned people were creeping down the steps, looking around nervously for some sign of the Death Eaters who had fled into the night. Harry's eyes, however, were fixed upon the ground at the foot of the tallest tower. He imagined that he could see a black, huddled mass lying in the grass there, though he was really too far away to see anything of the sort. Even as he stared wordlessly at the place where he thought Dumbledore's body must lie, however, he saw people beginning to move toward it.

"What're they all lookin' at?" said Hagrid, as he and Harry approached the castle front, Fang keeping as close as he could to their ankles. "Wha's that lyin' on the grass?" Hagrid added sharply, heading now toward the foot of the Astronomy Tower, where a small crowd was congregating. "See it, Harry? Right at the foot of the tower? Under where the Mark…Blimey…yeh don' think someone got thrown—?"

Hagrid fell silent, the thought apparently too horrible to express aloud. Harry walked alongside him, feeling the aches and pains in his face and his legs where the various hexes of the last half-hour had hit him, though in an oddly detached way, as though somebody near him was suffering them. What was real and inescapable was the awful pressing feeling in his chest…

He and Hagrid moved, dreamlike, through the murmuring crowd to the very front, where the dumbstruck students and teachers had left a gap.

Harry heard Hagrid's moan of pain and shock, but he did not stop; he walked slowly forward until he reached the place where Dumbledore lay and crouched down beside him. He had known there was no hope from the moment that the full Body-Bind Curse Dumbledore had placed upon him lifted, known that it could have happened only because its caster was dead, but there was still no preparation for seeing him here, spread-eagled, broken: the greatest wizard Harry had ever, or would ever, meet.

Dumbledore's eyes were closed, but for the strange angle of his arms and legs, he might have been sleeping. Harry reached out, straightened the half-moon spectacles upon the crooked nose, and wiped a trickle of blood from the mouth with his own sleeve. Then he gazed down at the wise old face and tried to absorb the enormous and incomprehensible truth: that never again would Dumbledore speak to him, never again could he help…

The crowd murmured behind Harry. After what seemed like a long time, he became aware that he was kneeling upon something hard and looked down.

The locket they had managed to steal so many hours before had fallen out of Dumbledore's pocket. It had opened, perhaps due to the force with which it hit the ground. And although he could not feel more shock or horror or sadness than he felt already, Harry knew, as he picked it up, that there was something wrong…

He turned the locket over in his hands. This was neither as large as the locket he remembered seeing in the Pensieve, nor were there any markings upon it, no sign of the ornate _S_ that was supposed to be Slytherin's mark. Moreover, there was nothing inside but for a scrap of folded parchment wedged tightly into the place where a portrait should have been.

Automatically, without really thinking about what he was doing, Harry pulled out the fragment of parchment, opened it, and read by the light of the many wands that had now been lit behind him:

_To the Dark Lord_

_I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more._

_R.A.B._

Harry neither knew nor cared what the message meant. Only one thing mattered: This was not a Horcrux. Dumbledore had weakened himself by drinking that terrible potion for nothing. Harry crumpled the parchment in his hand, and his eyes burned with tears as behind him Fang began to howl.

**...**

"Are you all right, Harry?" Lupin asked. Harry, his friends, Ron's parents, Lupin, and Tonks were all in the infirmary. They were all watching Madam Pomfrey, who was tending to a savaged Bill.

"I'm fine…How's Bill?"

Nobody answered. Harry looked over Hermione's shoulder and saw an unrecognizable face lying on Bill's pillow, so badly slashed and ripped that he looked grotesque. Madam Pomfrey was dabbing at his wounds with some harsh-smelling green ointment. Harry remembered how Snape had mended Malfoy's Sectumsempra wounds so easily with his wand.

"Can't you fix them with a charm or something?" he asked the matron.

"No charm will work on these," said Madam Pomfrey. "I've tried everything I know, but there is no cure for werewolf bites."

"But he wasn't bitten at the full moon," said Ron, who was gazing down into his brother's face as though he could somehow force him to mend just by staring. "Greyback hadn't transformed, so surely Bill won't be a—a real—?"

He looked uncertainly at Lupin.

"No, I don't think that Bill will be a true werewolf," said Lupin, "but that does not mean that there won't be some contamination. Those are cursed wounds. They are unlikely ever to heal fully, and—and Bill might have some wolfish characteristics from now on."

"Dumbledore might know something that'd work, though," Ron said. "Where is he? Bill fought those maniacs on Dumbledore's orders, Dumbledore owes him, he can't leave him in this state—"

"Ron—Dumbledore's dead," said Ginny.

"No!" Lupin looked wildly from Ginny to Harry, as though hoping the latter might contradict her, but when Harry did not, Lupin collapsed into a chair beside Bill's bed, his hands over his face. Harry had never seen Lupin lose control before; he felt as though he was intruding upon something private, indecent. He turned away and caught Ron's eye instead, exchanging in silence a look that confirmed what Ginny had said.

"How did he die?" whispered Tonks. "How did it happen?"

Harry felt a surge of dread come up his throat. What would he tell them? He was still confused about what Snape had told him earlier.

"He...he was killed. A Death Eater killed him," Harry decided to say.

"Did you see who?" asked Ginny quietly.

"No," Harry found himself saying. "No, I didn't. I—I was Stupefied. I woke up a few minutes later and—and gave chase to the Death Eaters running out of the castle."

Madam Pomfrey burst into tears. Nobody paid her any attention except Ginny, who whispered, "Shh! Listen!"

Gulping, Madam Pomfrey pressed her fingers to her mouth, her eyes wide. Somewhere out in the darkness, a phoenix was singing in a way Harry had never heard before: a stricken lament of terrible beauty. And Harry felt, as he had felt about phoenix song before, that the music was inside him, not without: It was his own grief turned magically to song that echoed across the grounds and through the castle windows.

How long they all stood there, listening, he did not know, nor why it seemed to ease their pain a little to listen to the sound of their mourning, but it felt like a long time later that the hospital door opened again and Professor McGonagall entered the ward. Like all the rest, she bore marks of the recent battle: There were grazes on her face and her robes were ripped.

"Molly and Arthur are on their way," she said, and the spell of the music was broken: Everyone roused themselves as though coming out of trances, turning again to look at Bill, or else to rub their own eyes and shake their heads. "Harry, what happened? According to Hagrid you were with Professor Dumbledore when he—when it happened. He says Professor Snape was involved in some—"

"I don't know," Harry lied, cutting Professor McGonagall off. He honestly did not know why he was covering for Snape, but Snape's last words kept nagging at him. Damn it! Why did Snape have to make everything so confusing?

"Can—can I go?" asked Harry tiredly. "I—I just need to process everything. Get some...fresh air."

"I...can come with you, mate, if you want," offered Ron.

Harry had a ghost of a smile on his face. "Thanks," he mumbled.

"Can I go as well, Professor?" asked Hermione, clearly sensing that Harry had something to tell them.

Professor McGonagall looked at the three of them with a blank expression, but she nodded at them. "Yes, you can." The three of them stood up and exited the infirmary quietly.

"There's something you need to know," said Harry as soon as they were out of earshot from everyone else. He wrapped his arms around himself as the cold air encased them in the hall.

"What is it?" asked Ron.

"I...I actually did see who killed Dumbledore," Harry replied ashamedly.

"What!" Hermione exclaimed in a whisper. She stopped walking and abruptly grabbed Harry's shoulders so he could face her. "You _saw_ who killed him, but you didn't _say_ anything?" Harry stared at Hermione, whose eyes were prickling with tears.

"Harry! Why would you _do_ that?" Ron asked angrily, slightly louder than Hermione. "You need to go back there and tell them who did it!"

Harry wrestled his way out of Hermione's grip and turned to face his best friends. "Please...not out here...Someone could hear us!"

"Good!" Ron continued harshly. "Let them hear! They need to know! C'mon, Harry—" he grabbed Harry's arm, but Harry pulled away from the taller boy.

"Just—just hear me out, okay?" begged Harry. "I...I just need to figure this out."

"Figure what out?" Hermione asked softly.

"Come up to the dorm...I'll tell you there."

Ron and Hermione nodded, but they seemed to reluctantly follow him through the passage leading to the Gryffindor Tower.

"Is it true?" whispered the Fat Lady as they approached her. "Is it really true? Dumbledore—dead?"

"Yes," said Harry.

She let out a wail and, without waiting for the password, swung forward to admit the trio.

As Harry had suspected it would be, the common room was jam-packed. The room fell silent as he, Ron, and Hermione climbed through the portrait hole. He saw Dean and Seamus sitting in a group nearby: This meant that the dormitory must be empty, or nearly so. Without speaking to anybody, without making eye contact at all, Harry walked straight across the room and through the door to the boys' dormitories with Ron and Hermione close behind him.

Harry sat on his bed, and Ron and Hermione sat on the other.

"Firstly," said Ron in a very low voice, as though he thought the furniture might be listening in. "Did you find one? Did you get it? A—a Horcrux?" Hermione looked anticipatory for Harry's answer.

Harry shook his head. All that had taken place around that black lake seemed like an old nightmare now; had it really happened, and only hours ago?

"You didn't get it?" said Hermione, looking crestfallen. "It wasn't there?"

"No," said Harry. "Someone had already taken it and left a fake in its place."

"Already taken—?" Ron began.

Wordlessly, Harry pulled the fake locket from his pocket, opened it, and passed it to his friends. The full story could wait…It did not matter tonight…nothing mattered except the end, the end of their pointless adventure, the end of Dumbledore's life…

"R.A.B.," whispered Ron, "but who was that?"

"Dunno," said Harry, lying back on his bed fully clothed and staring blankly upwards. He felt no curiosity at all about R.A.B.: He doubted that he would ever feel curious again.

"And Dumbledore?" asked Hermione. "Who...you know—?"

"Snape," said Harry emotionlessly. "He...he cast _Avada Kedavra_ —"

" _What_?" asked Ron with a horrified whisper. Now, Hermione's tears were let loose.

"Oh, it's all my fault…" muttered Hermione, but Harry ignored her as he continued his explanation.

"I chased him, and as I was accusing him, telling him how Dumbledore trusted him...he said, ' _He trusted me, trusted me to the point that I was the one he turned to, to ensure his quick and painless death_.'"

Hermione frowned. "What...I...I don't understand…"

"Snape _mercy-killed_ him?" asked Ron. "He...he _told_ you that?"

"That's what he said."

"I don't think it's wise to tell anyone then…" said Hermione.

"What—are you _believing_ this?" Ron asked incredulously.

"It's confusing," Hermione replied. "Why would Snape tell Harry anything like that unless it was true?"

"To trick him?" Ron reasoned, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Snape _hates_ Harry—that's no secret—"

"But he never risked anyone's life?" Hermione countered, sounding unsure of her own conviction.

"He killed _Dumbledore_ , for Merlin's sake! He wanted to kill Harry, too, I bet!" Ron exclaimed, standing up. "You know what? We need to tell McGonagall, and we need to do it quickly—"

"Ron, wait." Ron and Hermione turned to face Harry, who had sat up again. "Snape...he stopped another Death Eater from torturing me...claiming that I was reserved for Voldemort—"

Ron and Hermione shuddered at Harry's use of Voldemort's name. "So?" asked Ron, still disbelieving.

"So...he prevented me from getting harmed? I really don't know...and what was wrong with Dumbledore, anyway?" Harry asked, suddenly remembering that Dumbledore had apparently needed a quick and painless death in the first place.

Hermione let out a small gasp. "His hand—"

Realization dawned on Ron's face. "You're right—his hand was all shriveled up, wasn't it?"

Harry nodded.

"Maybe...maybe it was a curse wound? Something untreatable?" Hermione suggested. "It was probably fatal, if what Snape said was true."

"The bad thing is that the only one who can give us answers is at Voldemort's side," said Harry darkly. This time, it was only Ron who shuddered.

"The Order still doesn't know that it was Snape who did it," said Hermione. "They'll certainly meet up after—after the...funeral, won't they?"

"Yes, most likely…" Harry replied absently. "If the Order doesn't know, then Snape will surely be there—?"

"But there...there isn't a leader for our side anymore…" Ron countered half-heartedly.

"Mad-Eye Moody will probably be the new leader," said Hermione.

"So? What do we do, now?" asked Harry. "Now that we think Snape might still be on our side?"

"We should contact him somehow," said Hermione.

"And how the bloody hell would we do that?" Ron whispered harshly. "This is ridiculous! How could _Snape_ be on our side? Why should we believe anything the bastard says?"

" _Ron_!" Hermione scolded.

"I do," Harry replied before he could even think about it. He paused momentarily, shocked at himself for what he just said, for it was _true_. "He...he looked like he was in pain when I called him a coward. He even tried to give me some advice. Told me I should close my mind and mouth if I want to succeed in an attack. I think it was, ' _Blocked again and again and again until you learn to keep your mouth shut and your mind closed, Potter!_ '."

"That does sound like useful advice," Hermione admitted. Ron did not say anything.

"I think we should keep this to ourselves—" Harry held up his hand as Ron opened his mouth to object— "at least—at least 'til we can get answers."

Ron huffed as he opened his trunk to get his nightclothes. "Fine. I still don't understand why we can't just tell McGonagall, though."

"I know it seems strange, but I think Harry's onto something," answered Hermione thoughtfully. "Well, see you tomorrow, I guess." Then, she left the room.

Not bothering to change, Harry slipped off his shoes and his trousers, and through it all, he felt nothing. No sadness, no grief, no frustration, no anger. When he realized this, Harry laughed ruefully. It was almost as if he mastered Occlumency.

Snape would certainly be proud if he got wind of this new development.

* * *

Severus stared at the ceiling above him. The darkness which now plagued Malfoy Manor was extremely suffocating. He pulled his blanket closer to his chin and sighed.

He reflected on what he told Voldemort. The Dark Lord now knew that Dumbledore was dead by his hand. As predicted, Voldemort had gifted him Hogwarts. Narcissa had been very thankful to Severus for completing Draco's task, for not letting her son's soul get tainted. For the first time in a long time, Severus felt a burning sensation in his eyes, and he did not stop the inevitable tears from flowing down his pallid face.

"Happy, Albus?" he whispered to the ceiling, his voice raw with pain. "Happy that you've subjected me to this torture? Happy that you've finally _broke_ me?" Then, he thought of what he told Potter earlier tonight, after he did the _deed_. He had risked his very life to tell that boy those words, but he knew that it would be useless. Potter hated his guts; why would he believe the man who killed his mentor?

Angrily wiping his tears away, he turned on his side and pulled the blanket over his head. As he thought of all these things and more, Severus laughed bitterly, thinking of how Potter would be laughing cruelly at him were he seen in this state.

For the first time since Lily died, his mind was completely full.

**Author's Note:**

> **This story stemmed from a plot bunny which attacked me as I was writing _Albus Potter_ , so I may or may not expand this to become a full story. I think, in the direction that this is going, it would make for a pretty cool _Deathly Hallows_ AU story. Let me know in the reviews if I should continue this or not. I'd love to know what you think!**
> 
> **EDIT (8/17/2020): I have uploaded a sequel! It's called _Mercy-Kill II: The Horcrux Hunt_.**


End file.
